


Pacify Her

by the10amongstthese3s



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Anxiety, Fluff, One Shot, Panic Attacks, kit deserves something to make her feel safe, stimming ?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24242473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the10amongstthese3s/pseuds/the10amongstthese3s
Summary: When Kit discovers an adorable new coping mechanism, she finds herself struggling to open up about it to the queens.
Comments: 25
Kudos: 149





	Pacify Her

We all have certain things that calm us down. An activity or an object that can always ground us when we’re anxious. Or, maybe it’s a song or a movie that you know you can depend on. For Catherine Parr it was her favourite book, for Jane Seymour it was the act of baking and, for Catherine of Aragon, it was prayer. 

However, for Katherine Howard that comfort came in the form of a stuffed animal.

Specifically, an adorable little stuffed elephant, with the softest baby pink fur she’d ever felt. When Bessie had bought it for her, she’d had no idea how attached the girl would grow to it. Honestly, it had been a last-minute purchase after she completely forgot about the Secret Santa gift exchange. As it turns out though, she couldn’t have made a better choice.

Truthfully, Kit was embarrassed by how much comfort the stuffed animal brought her. After all, she was an adult. Far too old to be playing with silly toys, that’s for certain.

Still though, she couldn’t deny the absolute relief that washed over her as she played with the elephant’s soft ears. It was as if she completely forgot about her anxiety as soon as her fingers met that familiar fur. Almost as if it were enchanted with some sort of calming spell.

Magic or not, Kit was eternally grateful for the soothing gift.

Kit’s anxiety could be bad before a show. After all, reliving your trauma night after night isn’t something people tend to cope well with. That’s why, under the queens’ noses, Kit began sneaking the elephant into work. 

The toy never even left her bag but that didn’t matter. Having it there was enough. Being able to reach into the bag and gently brush her fingertips along the fuzzy fur always helped to get her in the right headspace for a show. After a while, it became a sort of pre-show ritual to her. So long as she could feel a fluffy ear or a little leg against her hand, Kit knew she’d be okay.

Everything would be okay.

Sometimes though, even that little elephant couldn’t stop Kit having a bad day. This particular day, the girl hadn’t slept much at all. She’d spent the night staring up at the ceiling until, finally, she drifted off… Straight into a nightmare that jolted her back awake. 

On days like that, running on so little energy, it didn’t take much to make the girl spiral. 

First, Anne had finished her favourite cereal. Then, Cleves had used the last of the hot water before she could shower. When she went to dress, Kit even found that her favourite shirt had been shrunk in the wash.

Everything was going wrong!

It may not have been much but, to Kit, it felt like the end of the world. All those little things pile up very quickly when you’re in such a foul mood. Especially when you know you have a full day of exhausting work ahead of you.

Thankfully, though, Kit had her elephant ready and waiting in her bag. The good thing about stuffed animals is that they don’t ask questions. They simply provide the comfort you need without asking for context. As much as she loved Jane and Anne’s hugs, sometimes explaining why she needed them was too hard for Kit. Sometimes, there was no real answer to give.

Even with how awful she felt, Kit managed to keep herself grounded. That is, until she was dragged to warm-ups on her way to the bathroom.

As soon as she got to the auditorium, Kit realised her mistake.

Her bag was still sat under her dressing table, waiting for her to return from the restroom. She was already there now, though. She couldn’t leave without a good excuse or the others would start to ask questions. Today of all days, Kit knew she couldn’t face their judgement. So, with gritted teeth, she braced herself for warm-ups.

The usual fun of warm-ups didn’t resonate with Kit today. Instead, the music made her sleep-deprived brain pulse against her skull like a jackhammer. The poor girl could feel herself growing more and more overwhelmed with every note. 

It was all just so much. The dancing about, the vocal warm-ups, the tapping of shoes against the stage, the way the others insisted on trying to involve her in conversation.

Why didn’t they understand that she didn’t want to talk? She didn’t want to sing for them or joke around with Cleves and Parr about whatever Aragon was scolding Anne for. God knows she didn’t want to make eye contact and attempt to hold a conversation. 

All that she wanted was sat in a handbag, under a dressing table, down the hall.

Kit was so focused on trying to block out the sound that she didn’t even notice the queens’ curiously eyeing her. Nor did she recognise the telltale signs of one of her panic attacks. 

It wasn’t until she found herself completely unable to breathe that Kit noticed the music had stopped. All she could do by that point though was rock back and forth with her eyes closed, humming anxiously to herself to try to distract her brain.

“Kitty?”

She knew that voice. She could trust that voice. Still, though, it wasn’t what she wanted.

If she hadn’t have been so overwhelmed, the girl would have simply asked the blonde kneeling before her to go get her bag. At that moment though, even just forcing her eyes open seemed like an impossible task. 

“You’re okay, my love. Everything’s okay. Just breathe with me, Kit,” Jane hummed as the fragile girl peeked up at her. “Copy me like we practised, okay? Think you can do that?”

With a small nod, Kit focused all her effort on sucking in breath after breath, trying her hardest to get into an even rhythm. Still though, Kit could only bring herself to focus on one thing.

“Bag.”

In a flash, Parr was gone, returning a moment later with the bag. Instantly, Kit tore into the prison, throwing it aside as she pulled the elephant from its confines.

Too overwhelmed to care what the queens may think, Kit simply buried her face in the toy, silently nuzzling the soft fur as the others watched on. If they thought it strange, nobody said anything. Instead all opting to stay quiet and give the girl time to calm herself down. 

No surprise, Kit didn’t perform that night. 

As soon as she was calm enough, Anne helped her to the dressing room and laid her out on the couch. After the number of naps they’d all taken on the ground, it was Aragon’s idea to get the crappy, little Ikea couch. The others had thought it unnecessary at the time. Now though, they’d never been so thankful as they watched Kit relax under a blanket, finally catching up on the sleep she so desperately needed.

Usually, someone would have driven Kit home and taken the day off to keep her company, but she looked so peaceful curled up on that couch that nobody dared to disturb her. So, as if nothing happened, the group went on stage and sung their hearts out. Not before demanding that a swing stay by Kit’s side and keep an eye on her, of course. 

Kit didn’t wake until the queens came off stage from their evening show that night. The light in the dressing room was jarring at first, but as soon as she saw Cleves smirking at her from the doorway, Kit felt herself relax.

“Nice of you to join the land of the living.”

Kit couldn’t help but giggle at that as Cleves pressed a kiss to her hairline, before taking a seat at her dressing table to remove her makeup. It was strange watching the others get ready to leave with nothing to do for herself. Still, Kit didn’t complain. It was nice to see them on such a high from their show.

Glancing down to her lap, Kit felt her cheeks burn crimson as she noticed what she was cuddling. Just as the embarrassment and shame kicked in though, Parr spoke up with a smile.

“What’s her name?”

Hesitating for a moment, Kit looked down to the elephant in her arms. Parr wouldn’t tease her, would she? No, that wasn’t her style. She could trust Parr.

“Kirby,” Kit finally answered, her voice hoarse.

It was Aragon who spoke up next, looking surprisingly enthusiastic to discuss the toy. It was almost as if the women didn’t find it strange at all. Like they understood the immature coping mechanism. 

“Is she called Kirby because she’s pink?”

“No, because she’s really good at Smash Bros,” Anne quipped, making Aragon roll her eyes. Kit couldn’t help but notice something, though. The teasing wasn’t aimed at her.

Jane must have noticed the girl’s remaining nerves because, as if reading her mind, the woman offered up a sentence that instantly calmed her anxiety. Of course Jane would know what to say to make her feel better. With no animosity at all, Jane made a simple suggestion that made Kit’s heart pound with excitement at the sense of validation it provided.

“Do you think Kirby would like to join us for dinner at that restaurant with Maggie and Maria tomorrow?” 

Seeing the loving smile on Jane’s face, Kit had to wonder how she was ever afraid of the woman’s judgement. Of course the group wouldn’t make fun of her. All they wanted was for her to feel safe. They were her family, after all. Those queens would support each other no matter what.

For once, Kit felt no shame in holding the elephant close to her chest as she beamed away at the women, giving an excited nod. 

There was no need to hide any part of her anymore. Not from her family.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 💚 I hope you liked it! As someone who had to take a bright pink stuffed moose to college with me for my own anxiety, it seemed like something I could project onto Kit in a sweet way 😝🦆 
> 
> (This isn't me trying to infantilise her or anything, I just like the idea of her being calmed by something like that. It's a 'coping mechanism' I still rely on at 19).


End file.
